They were wedged in the jam of people at the end of the gangplank.
“Look we could wait for a porter,” said Ellen.
“No dear I’ve got them.” Jimmy was sweating and staggering with a suitcase in each hand and packages under his arms. In Ellen’s arms the baby was cooing stretching tiny spread hands towards the faces all round.
“D’you know it?” said Jimmy as they crossed the gangplank,
“I kinder wish we were just going on board.... I hate getting home.”
“I dont hate it.... There’s H ... I’ll follow right along.... I wanted to look for Frances and Bob. Hello....” “Well I’ll be ...” “Helena you’ve gained, you’re looking wonderfully. Where’s Jimps?” Jimmy was rubbing his hands together, stiff and chafed from handles of the heavy suitcases.
“Hello Herf. Hello Frances. Isn’t this swell?”
“Gosh I’m glad to see you....”
“Jimps the thing for me to do is go right on to the Brevoort with the baby ...”
“Isn’t he sweet.”